


You're My Best Friend

by whittler_of_words



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:23:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2831372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't see what business a bull would have in a china shop, though." Aziraphale continued on over the frown that had formed on Crowley's face. "Or a book shop, for that matter."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lvcoloredmagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvcoloredmagic/gifts).



> this can easily be interpreted as ship fic but i left it open-ended intentionally. interpret as you like!
> 
> thanks to [shannon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/papertimelady/pseuds/turntechtimelady) for the idea!!! c:

Crowley wasn't having a bad day.

In fact, one might even go so far as to say it was a perfectly average sort of day. The sort that you can never really remember, weeks or months or years down the line, but always fills your head with a pleasant kind of buzz when you try to think back on it. 

Crowley looked desperately around Aziraphale's bookshop, where a shelf was suddenly more horizontal than it had been just moments before, at the books scattered everywhere, and felt bitterly resentful that the day had gone and changed its mind so soon.

I have time, he thought, as he scrambled frantically (yet carefully) over the books on the floor to prop the bookshelf back up. So much time! Aziraphale wouldn't be back for another couple of minutes yet. Plenty of time to pick up all of...this.

The door swung open at thirty seconds exactly.

Aziraphale paused in the doorway. Blinking, he looked from the floor, still covered with books, to the books thrown haphazardly on the shelf, and finally to Crowley, who was frozen where he stood with a large stack of books in his hands. One clattered to the floor. Crowley laughed nervously.

"Dear," Aziraphale sighed wearily, " _again?_ "

Crowley looked appropriately guilty. "Oops." Aziraphale waved a hand, and the books were suddenly back in their rightful places before Crowley could blink. He glanced around at the tidy shop. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Guess I could have done that."

"You could stand to be a bit more careful." Aziraphale gave Crowley a Look.

"It's not like I don't try," Crowley said glumly, dusting off the front of his suit. It was reminiscent a dog licking his wounds. "It's just, with all these shelves and things all over the place, how can anyone expect to move around at all? Like a bull in a china shop, I say."

Aziraphale was rather proud of how narrow he'd managed to get the aisles.

"I don't see what business a bull would have in a china shop, though." Aziraphale continued on over the frown that had formed on Crowley's face. "Or a book shop, for that matter." 

"It's just an expression."

"But it doesn't make any sense."

"Look, it's like, when someone really clumsy tries to do something delicate, or--" Crowley threw his hands up. "You know what, nevermind."

"But--"

"Nope." Crowley picked up his shades and placed them on Aziraphale's nose. The angel screwed up his face. "We can talk about it more at lunch if you want but I'd like to get going before another Apocalypse starts."

"Alright, alright. Do you know where we're going?"

"Finding out is half the fun, isn't it?"

"Maybe, if you like surprises."

"Oh, I do." Crowley winked and walked out the door, and Aziraphale huffed as he hurried after him. Crowley shaded his eyes with a hand as he stepped over to the driver's side of the Bentley. The sky wasn't quite cloudless, but it might as well have been. "I think you'll like it, anyway."

Aziraphale paused a moment before he stepped into the car, considering something. He shook his head lightly a second later. "I guess we'll see." 

When Crowley pulled out of his parking spot, the red paint on the curb folding neatly back into place, it was at only slightly over the speed limit. He whistled a tune. Aziraphale politely ignored the way the traffic light turned red and stayed that way as they drove past.

"Put something on, would you?" Crowley waved a hand toward his music collection. If it could be called a collection, really. Aziraphale pushed the glasses up his nose, picked a CD at random, and slipped it into the slot.

"I don't understand why you don't just throw these out after a while," Aziraphale said. "Doesn't it clutter?"

"I would say you'd be surprised, but I'd be lying."

"Well-" Crowley glanced at Aziraphale as he paused. "I suppose I wouldn't mind that."

Crowley flashed Aziraphale a grin.

_"Ooh, you make me live now, honey, ooh, you make me live..."_

**Author's Note:**

> who else was in love with the broadcast today?  
> a-fucking-men.


End file.
